What Tomorrow Brings
by alyells
Summary: Telling the future? No sweat for Mary Poppins! But seeing what the future holds? That's a totally different story. A little peak at what tomorrow brings could never hurt anyone. One-Shot; Mary/Bert, of course. Review please!


**What Tomorrow Brings**

**A/N: Let's just imagine that back in 1910 or whenever it was that Mary was around, magazines existed and were glossy, just because I can't think of another way to suit this story! If you read, I'm sure you'll understand. So, please do so! And a review would make me smile, I'm sure, because you're all such wonderful people. Enjoy!**

At three o'clock on Sunday afternoon, Mary Poppins had _finally_ finished tidying up the nursery – again. For the third time that day. She was getting increasingly frustrated with the children, Jane and Michael, for messing up her practically perfect organization of their toys. She wiped her hands in her crisp white apron and took a final, sweeping look of the room. Yes, everything was in place, she decided.

At this point in her day, the children were no where to be seen. Their beds were empty, they weren't out in the garden or in the sitting room, and they _obviously_ weren't in the nursery or it wouldn't still be in order. The only place that was left would be the kitchen. Mary tripped lightly down over the stairs, not feeling _quite_ light hearted enough to slide down the banister today, and into the kitchen, where, just as she had suspected, Jane and Michael were sitting at the table. She had not expected, however, for them to have company.

"'Ello, Mary Poppins," said the friendly faced chimney sweep, Bert. He stood as she entered the room and tipped his sooty cap to her.

"Good afternoon," she greeted him with a nod.

"A good afternoon, indeed," he exclaimed, pulling a chair out for her. She sat down and smoothed her skirts across her knees that were kept firmly together. She was _always_ proper; she wouldn't be Mary Poppins if she weren't! Bert reclaimed his seat next to her. Had he just scooted his chair a little bit closer?

Jane and Michael were sitting at the table with their heads together, reading a magazine article. Jane's finger traced along the words as she mumbled them slowly for Michael; he wasn't the best at reading small print yet. Mary watched them suspiciously; it was very odd for Jane and Michael to be getting along so well, let alone reading together.

"'…depending on the day and month you were born'. Oh, Michael," Jane cried, her eyes alight with excitement, "isn't that fantastic? We'll know exactly what's going to happen to us every day for the rest of our lives!"

"No more guess work," Michael added, grinning at his sister.

"It sounds like magic to me," Bert said with a wink at Mary Poppins.

"Bert," said Mary warningly. He merely smirked at her.

"Magic, did you say?" Michael asked, turning away from the article and to Bert. "I love a bit of magic!"

"You're so right, Bert," piped up Jane. "It is like magic; it's like, telling the future!"

"Telling the future," Mary scoffed. "Honestly! There's no such thing as magic. Hand me that magazine, please, Jane." She held her hand out, and Jane handed over the glossy-paged article. She scanned over the title, _'Your Monthly Horoscope'_, and muttered, "Ridiculous."

"I don't think it's ridiculous, Mary Poppins," Michael told her honestly. "I think it's wonderful!"

Mary's eyebrows rose sharply. "Oh, really?"

"Yes," he said. "It sounds bloody exciting!"

"That'll be quite enough of that language, thank _you!_" Mary said indignantly. "And a 'horoscope' is a completely improper way to go about telling the future, I assure you!"

Bert glanced at her again. "What would be the proper way, then, Mary Poppins?"

"The proper way," Mary repeated, her eyes narrowed. "There is no 'proper' way of telling the future, Bert. You know it as well as I do," she added.

Bert's mouth dropped open in mock-disbelief. The children watched them interestedly. "I do believe that our Mary Poppins is telling us lies!" he exclaimed. Jane gasped; Michael hid his eyes behind his hands, leaving little gaps in his fingers so he could see what was going on.

Mary's head whipped around so she was facing Bert. "I _beg _your _pardon?_" she questioned him menacingly. "I do not 'tell lies', thank you very much."

"You also said that there was no such thing as magic," Bert added, his smirk growing into a full-blow grin. "I must contradict you there!"

"You wouldn't dare," Mary stated simply.

"Dare I would," Bert said, chuckling softly. "I happen to know that _I_can tell the future!" Mary rolled her eyes. "I can indeed!"

"Really, Bert," asked Jane exuberantly. "Can you do it for us now?"

"Please," chimed Michael.

Bert puffed his chest out. "Well, since you asked so nicely. Give me your hand, Jane, and you too, Michael," he instructed, taking each child's hand in his own, and laying the back flat on the table. "And join hands, you two," he said. "Now, close your eyes and concentrate really hard…Don't peek," he cried. "Hmmmmmm…Hmmmmmm…" he hummed.

Mary watched the scene before her; a very un-Mary-like snort erupted from her closed mouth before she could stop it. Bert opened one eye and glanced at her. He tried very hard not to laugh.

"Is anything happening yet?" Michael whispered to Jane. She shook her head.

"I don't think so!"

"Keep quiet," Bert commanded lightly. They both shut their mouths tightly. Mary folded her arms across her chest, her foot tapping impatiently underneath the table.

"This is nonsense," Mary cried suddenly. "Bert, why must you _always_ complicate things that are really quite simple?"

"Because it's more fun that way," he said with a smirk.

"Let go of each other's hands, please" Mary snapped. "This isn't a séance!"

Bert looked at Jane and Michael, hid his mouth from Mary and told them in a stage whisper, "Works every time!"

"It most certainly does not work every time," she told them, "and if you continue these theatrics it will be the _last_ time. Now, you want to see the future?"

"Very much so!" Jane cried. Michael furiously nodded in agreement.

"Well, come along, then" she said stiffly and stood up. Jane and Michael followed her as she crossed to the kitchen door. "Bert?" she asked, turning back to see him still sitting at the table.

"Mary?"

"Aren't you coming?"

He stood abruptly. "I thought you'd never ask!"

"Since when have you waited to be asked?" she called to him as they exited the room and ventured into the front porch.

"I'm a gentleman, Mary Poppins, how dare you expect anything else of me!" he retorted, mocking her prim accent and sarcasm. She rolled her eyes.

"Now, I want you all to stay very close by me," she instructed the children, then glancing up at Bert with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes, she added, "and that goes for you, too, Mr Gentleman."

He stood rod straight and saluted her. "Yes, your Captainship Holiness Ma'am!" Jane giggled, and Mary glowered playfully.

"Stand against the wall for a moment, please," Mary told them. They did as she asked, and backed up against the wall by the front door. Mary closed her eyes for a moment and snapped her fingers. Then, she turned to them and smiled.

"Well, here we go!" she exclaimed. "Come along please, and don't straggle behind. It leaves a very bad impression, you know, when one can't keep up with his companions."

Mary put her hand on the doorknob and twisted it, and a gust of wind nearly knocked the children, and Bert, of their feet when they moved to follow her. When they stepped out of the house, however, it died down and they followed Mary very quickly down Cherry Tree Lane.

"I thought you said we were going to see the future," Michael called accusingly, struggling to keep up with Mary's fast pace. "This looks exactly the same as it did this morning!"

"Yes," Jane added in her protests. "I want to see the future, Mary Poppins!"

"Kindly stop berating me, if you please," she said briskly and turned the corner of the lane. Bert was bringing up the rear of their little parade.

"Just wait a moment," Bert said, "Mary Poppins always delivers." Over her shoulder, Mary gave Bert a secretive smile.

They walked the familiar path down Main Street, Mary never slowing and the children fighting to keep in stride with her. Quite opposite of the norm, there was no one else about and it was eerily quite for a Sunday afternoon. After what seemed like a full day of walking in silence, Mary stopped abruptly, and Jane had to dig her heels into the concrete side walk to stop from barreling her nanny over. Michael, however, was not so quick on the uptake, and slammed into his sister's back. She rounded on him, but a rather loud clearing of the throat from Mary stopped her from screaming at him.

When Jane turned back around, she noticed a few people across the street. One was tall and darkly handsome, dressed strangely in denim trousers, and his button down shirt was open and hanging loosely around a black tee shirt. The other person looked very familiar to Jane, Michael, Bert and Mary. In fact, the other person was…

"Jane," called the handsome man. When he turned his face towards the little group across the street, they noticed he was in his mid-twenties or early thirties, and very good-looking, indeed. "What do you think of this one?" He indicated a white basinet in a shop window that was covered in pink ribbons and sequin stars.

The twenty to thirty-ish Jane rolled her eyes and laughed. "It's _pink,_ darling! We can't choose a colour yet! We're not even sure if it's a boy or girl yet," she told him, cradling her swollen belly in her arms.

"You're really pretty," Michael whispered. Jane smiled, and Mary glanced down at her two young charges. They both looked awe-struck.

"Thanks," she whispered back, and continued to watch her future self.

"I can't believe you're seven and a half months along, and you won't find out what the sex is, still!" her husband sighed, and touched her stomach lovingly. She beamed at him.

"I want it to be a surprise," Jane gushed, beaming at her husband. "You know how important that is to me. I don't want to know."

"I know, love," he answered thoughtfully. "I don't care what we have, as long as it's…"

"Healthy, happy, with ten fingers and toes and the whole works," Jane finished for him. He smirked.

"Well, I was going to say able to play baseball, but that works, too," Jane's husband finished with a laugh. She punched him playfully in the shoulder.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, giving him a mock-stern glare. "You want this baby just as much as I do, no matter what."

"You know it's true," he said and smiled. They linked arms and continued to stroll down the street, discussing furniture and names all the way. Mary watched them until they were out of sight, then turned her attention to the present-day Jane.

"So?" she inquired.

"Wow!" Jane exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "He's so dashing! And I'm going to have a baby! That's fantastic!"

Mary grinned and looked at Bert, who was smiling back at her. "Isn't it," he added.

"Can we follow them?" Jane pleaded, gazing up at Mary. She shook her head.

"No, we've more to see! Believe it or not, it's not _all_ about you, Jane," Mary scolded lightheartedly. "Come along, then!"

They continued down Main Street at the same fast pace as before, all feeling much more secure in Mary's ability to bring them into the future. After some time, they came upon the park and some more people.

"That must be me," Michael said enthusiastically. Mary nodded, and they moved a bit closer.

"…gorgeous, isn't it?" the future-Michael was saying to a very pretty girl sitting on the park bench next to him. She batted her big, green eyes up at him and he toyed with a stray piece of her long, blond hair, one arm around her shoulder.

"Absolutely," she agreed. She sighed softly, and he looked her in the eyes.

"I've been meaning to tell you something," Michael said to the girl. She cocked her head slightly to one side.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I love you," he told her matter-of-factly. She blushed slightly and smiled brightly.

"I've got good news for you, then, Michael Banks," she told him. "I love you, too!"

By some unknown force of nature, their heads moved slowly together and titled opposite ways. Michael's arm moved from the girl's shoulders and he placed his hand on the back of her head. She wrapped her arms around his neck and their lips met, briefly, and they kissed tenderly. They broke apart, and the girl's flush was much more pronounced.

"Oh, I've one more thing to tell you," Michael said, and he stood from the bench. Then, he got down on one knee at her feet. The girl squealed happily and covered her face with her hands. "Darling, will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs Michael Banks?"

"Of course I will!" she bubbled delightedly, and then jumped up from the bench. He slipped the ring on her carefully painted, dainty finger and she squealed again. He scooped her up into his arms and planted another kiss on her rosy lips. He carried her off into the depths of the park, and Mary turned yet again to her posy.

Michael had the same expression on his face as Jane had earlier. "Wow!" was all he could manage to say.

"Congratulations chap," Bert said heartily and clapped him on the back. He grinned up at his friend goofily.

"She's lovely," Jane breathed airily.

"It looks like they're in love, good an' proper," Bert concluded with a nod.

"Well, is there any more to see, Mary Poppins?" Jane asked. Mary raised her eyebrows.

"You still want more? Let's not be greedy, Jane," she chastised. "I'm sure this is quite enough magic for you today."

"Magic!" exclaimed Bert. "If I'm not mistaken, you said earlier that there was no such thing as magic!"

"What utter nonsense," Mary said primly. "Come on, then, we have a fair bit of a walk ahead of us, and it's beginning to get chilly. Spit spot!"

*

Twenty five minutes later or so, the group arrived back at Number Seventeen and entered the house. Jane and Michael were still jittery with the excitement of seeing themselves so grown up and well-to-do. It was nearing dinner time now, and both children's stomachs were growling audibly.

"Perhaps you ought to get to the kitchen and find out what Mrs Brill is making for dinner," Mary told them. "Your father is working late tonight, and your mother has her dinner party with the Sisters," Mary Poppins added with a sniff of distaste; she was outwardly opposed to Mrs Banks' 'Sister' meetings, but would never say anything openly against her, "so you'll be eating on your own this evening."

Jane nodded, and began to troop of to the kitchen with Michael, but stopped just before she got to the door and turned around. "Won't you be joining us, Mary Poppins?"

"No, thank you, Jane," she said stiffly. "I'll whip something up for myself a little later on. It's not quite time for my dinner yet, and I wouldn't want to upset my schedule!" She shuddered visibly and both children laughed.

When they were out of sight and ear shot, Mary turned to Bert. He noticed that evil twinkle in her eye again, and fought to hold back a smirk; just what did she have planned for them this evening?

"I had informed the children that there was no more to see," Mary started quietly, stepping a little closer to Bert, "but, as you pointed out earlier, I'm quite a liar."

"I didn't call you a liar," he correctly impishly. "I merely said that you told a lie. Well, lies," he added with a chuckle.

"That is quite beside the point," she snapped a little impatiently. "The point _is_, there is more to see!"

"And just what else do you have up those magical sleeves of yours tonight, Mary Poppins?" he asked her.

"How would you like to see _your _future?" Mary teased him, turning back towards the front door.

"I'd like that very much," he said, and hurried back onto the street after her.

They took another path this time. Instead of turning the corner and heading down Main Street, Mary led him down Cherry Tree Lane, and onto the adjacent street, Willow Tree Avenue. They strolled past the first few houses until they came to a halt outside a particularly large one. On the front stoop, two shockingly familiar people were standing, pressed chest to chest and holding hands. Mary cast an uneasy glance at Bert; he was smiling broadly.

The two on the side walk stepped a little closer towards the two on the stoop; the couple kissed lightly before breaking apart.

"I'm going to miss you," said the future-Mary wistfully.

"You'll be back, though, love," Future-Bert soothed her. He ran a hand over her eternally-black, silky hair and sighed. "You always come back. And, besides, you're only going up the road for a visit."

Future-Mary laughed musically, and Bert kissed her swiftly on the lips. "I know, silly. Don't worry!"

"You're so foolish sometimes," he chuckled.

She stiffened indignantly. "I am no such thing," she said properly, her mouth thinning in a straight line.

"Of course you're not," he said, and stole another kiss. She batted him playfully around the jaw and he smirked. "Well, don't be gone too long," he told her. "I'll miss you."

"Don't be so sentimental," she said. Her voice was full of sternness, but the smile that had reappeared on her lips contradicted her tone. "I'll only be gone a moment!"

He gaped at her. "But – I just – you said – Oh, Mary," he sighed, throwing his hands up in the air in mock defeat.

"Drama Queen," she shot jokingly at him. He pouted.

"Am not," he retorted.

"Are too," she replied, stepping down the stairs and onto the walk way.

"Am not," he called back as she walked past the Present-Day-Mary and –Bert on the sidewalk.

"Are too!"

"Am not!" He opened the wide front door and stepped onto the threshold.

"I am not playing these childish games any longer," she called over her shoulder as she made her way up the street.

"Yes, you are," he called back.

"No, I'm not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"There, you said it," he cried. "I am _not _a Drama Queen."

"You tricked me!" she called, turning back to stare daggers at him.

"And you thought you were untrickable!"

"I thought no such thing! And could you ever so kindly step inside the house and close the door? We're not paying to heat all of London, you know!" She turned around again and continued down the street. The door of her house shut with a click behind her, and Present-Day Mary and Bert watched until she had turned onto Cherry Tree Lane.

The real life Bert beside the real life Mary sighed. "That was eye-opening, wouldn't you agree?"

"Very," she said with a smirk.

"You knew all along, didn't you?"

Her mouth dropped open in horror. Whether it was real or fake, Bert was unsure. "How can you accuse me of such things? I knew nothing of the sort!"

"Are you being serious, Mary Poppins?" he asked, studying her face. It was completely void of expression.

"That, you will never know," she answered tonelessly.

"Please?" he begged as they started to walk.

"Not a chance," Mary said with an air of finality.

*

The walk back to Number Seventeen was quieter than it had been earlier in the day. Bert walked Mary to the front door and stood with her on the top of the steps for a moment. He gazed into her blue eyes and sighed.

"Is something the matter?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing. Everything is just wonderful," he told her, his voice full of honestly.

"I'm pleased," she said with a polite smile. Was he as ecstatic about what they had just witnessed as she was? She studied him for a moment, but his sweet brown eyes gave nothing away. They were far off and distant.

"Well, I suppose this is good bye, then," he broke the silence.

"Not good bye," she corrected, "simply good night. Who knows what the morning shall bring."

"You do, you trickster," he accused, "you know everything!"

She turned her face to the sky, feigning indifference. "I do not!"

"Do too," he told her.

"Do not!" she cried.

"Do too," he sang in a happy voice and hopped down the three steps onto the Banks' walkway.

"I do not!"

"Fine, Mary Poppins," he gave up when he reached the gates. "You do not know everything."

"Thank _you!_" she said, and pulled the door open. "Good night, Bert."

"Good night, Mary," he replied and skipped the rest of the way onto the Main Street.

Mary leaned against the heavy door and closed her eyes. "Who knows what the future brings?" she asked the quiet house. Somewhere in her mind, she heard Bert's voice crying, "You do!" She smirked. "Do not," she retorted.


End file.
